Becoming His

I don’t even think. My brain is on autopilot, needing comfort and security. I’m already on the freeway, heading toward the only destination that can meet those needs. Home.

I silently make my way into the house and disarm the alarm, but Zeus isn’t about to let me go u

Dad flips on the lights, following closely behind Zeus, wearing his robe over a San Diego State T-shirt and matching sweatpants. When he sees me his concern is evident and my countdown hits zero. He wraps me in his arms and my shoulders heave as I grip his robe with both hands to keep myself upright. I bury my face in the soft polyester and feel him take my weight.

“David, what’s going on?” Mom asks, coming down the stairs. Neither of us responds as she rushes over and soothingly rubs my back.

“Ace, what happened, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you? Are you okay?”

I sniff and nod, not able to formulate words yet. Each time I try to speak, the words seem to get caught in my throat and I just cry harder.

After about twenty minutes of my mom bustling about, offering different remedies and trying to coax me to speak to her, Dad convinces her to go back to bed.

He holds me, allowing me to cry until my head throbs and my eyes burn. I feel exhausted, both physically and emotionally, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, shielding me as he leads me into the kitchen.

He reaches into the cabinet above the fridge and extracts an amber bottle and pours two fingers in a glass tumbler before retrieving a bottle of ibuprofen. Three pills fall into my palm and he hands me the glass. I don’t hesitate, swallowing it all in one toss and wincing at the burn of bourbon.

He fills my now empty cup up with water, and we wordlessly trudge up the stairs.

“Il sera bien ma belle fille,” Dad says quietly when we reach the top of the stairs. I want to acknowledge his words that everything will be okay, but I don’t. I can’t.

“Do you want me to stay with you? Or you can lie with mom?” I shake my head, needing some space. “Je t’aime mon, Ace,” he says quietly.

“I love you too, Dad,” I whisper. He hugs me close, placing a kiss in my hair before he watches me turn into my room.

I gather some clean pajamas and head to the bathroom where I turn the shower on and wait for it to get hot enough that the steam billows out. I strip out of my clothes, noticing a small trace of blood on my underwear, and kick them aside, making a new rivulet of tears to fall. I step in the tub, letting the hot water flow over me, joining my tears as I begin washing Max from my body.

The next day I wake up with a dull headache that feels worse than any hangover and find Zeus lying in front of my bed protectively and my mom holding a tray filled with food.

“Daddy thought some chocolate chip pancakes might sound good. I thought maybe some ice cream would be preferable,” she says with a weak smile, ru

“Max came by this morning. He said that there was a misunderstanding.” My heart races at the mention of his name, filling with hope until I recall he was already pla

I shake my head and take a sip of coffee.

“You know, sometimes you have to listen to your heart and block out this,” my mom says, gently tapping my temple with a pink, perfectly manicured finger.

“I have to go to a meeting, but I’ll be back later this afternoon. If you need anything call me, sweetheart.” I nod and gently set the tray on the floor as she leaves.

I lay my head back down and close my eyes which feel weighted.

Raised voices echo from downstairs, waking me. I sit up to see Zeus stand from his spot beside my bed. His nails click on the stairs as he goes to investigate, and I strain my ears to listen.

“Dad, he needs to talk to her.” Kendall’s agitated voice is easy to make out.

“I don’t know what’s going on right now; but I do know that she came home in the middle of the night and …” He stops and I know he’s protecting my outburst from last night and feel eternally grateful. He starts again in a calmer voice. “I’ve never seen her like that, Kendall. If he’s the reason she’s hurting I don’t even want him in my house.”

“I know how this looks, and I’m pretty sure I am the reason she’s upset, but I need to fix it. She took something I said out of context, and I really need to see her. Please. If she tells me to go I’ll leave.”

My eyes grow from shock at hearing Max’s voice and anxiously wait for my dad’s response. I want to see Max, but I also dread the prospect.

My head falls to my pillows, my hair splaying as I internally fight with myself and the eternal war of heart versus head as I smother myself with another pillow so I can’t hear any more of their conversation.

When I wake up again my room is dark from the night. I blink a few times trying to rid the scratchiness from my eyes and turn over to see what time it is. A solid object covers my feet, and I expect to see Zeus. A gasp fills the silence as I jump, realizing it’s a person. I scramble backwards, nearly falling off the side of my bed, before realizing that it’s Max.

My legs instinctively fold against my chest. Although I’m fully dressed, I feel extremely vulnerable and exposed. My poor heart begins racing again as I feel the adrenaline course through my veins, my palms prickling with sweat as I wrap them around my legs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Max says quietly, holding his hands out to me like I’m a wild animal, unsure of whether I’ll attack or run.

“What are you doing here, Max?” I try to sounds defensive, but my voice comes out strained.

“You left your phone, and your dad wouldn’t let me talk to you.”

I shake my head. “What are you doing here?” I repeat.

“Ace, last night was a mistake.”

“Yeah, I understood that message loud and clear,” I state coldly as my chest begins to ache and the familiar burn of tears returns.

“No, Ace, you aren’t understanding.” Max says. He reaches forward, touching my hand briefly before I rip it away and glare at him.

“Ace, please listen to me. I wanted last night to happen. Hell, I’ve wanted last night to happen for years, but it wasn’t supposed to happen like that! I felt so disappointed and frustrated with myself and with you because I’ve been thinking about that moment for so long. Pla

Before I can stop it, a small part of me feels elation and hope surfacing, accompanied by pain at hearing disappointment and not supposed to. I move my eyes up to him, refusing to talk, not trusting myself or my emotions.

“This isn’t coming out right,” he says with a sigh. I watch his hand run over his hair a few times before wiping down the front of his face.

“Ace, I care about you, a lot,” he says, looking at me like this should offer me clarity. I tilt my head slightly, focusing on his words, as I try to listen with both my head and my heart. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” Max’s eyes are wide as they search mine. “It’s not that us sleeping together was a mistake. You were perfect. I just wanted it to be perfect for you.”